Little Hands Show the Way
by ambitiousbutrubbish
Summary: Eames is full of secrets that break Arthur's heart. But Arthur doesn't understand them. Not at all.   Very first published fic! Please be kind. Unbeta'd. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Very light angst and some kissing.


**A/N: Well, not my first written fic, but the first one I've finished and published. Hands up who's nervous *raises hand*. Please be kind. Also, this is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are my own. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I want to make my fics the best I can. Thank you. Oh yes, and I so do not own any of this. P.S. Reviews make me super happy and want to write more *hint hint*. Also, not 100% sure about the rating. Kissing and implied bedroom activities, but nothing explicit or anything. **

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Eames always left quickly after a job. Mal pointed it out one day, and after that Arthur had counted. On average there was 10 minutes between the time the IV left Eames' arm until he was out the door. When Dom asked him about it once, Eames only laughed and said he had somewhere important to be. Arthur could only assume that the Brit went to a bar to cool off. The four of them had been working together for almost a year now. Eames had come to Arthur's house one day on recommendation from one of his university professors, and then bought him back to meet Mal and Dom. Together they begun working for the government, testing the limits of the PASIV device, which had only been used illegally before.

They were a good team, Arthur, Eames, Mal and Dom. Over the next three years they uncovered more things one could do with a PASIV device then had been known in the 15 years it had been used previously. Eames was the expert, of course. Arthur knew little about his past, he had so many alias' he was hard to track, but it was widely accepted that Eames had not exactly spent his youth on the right side of the law, and had been using the PASIV for years before the government had found him.

And over the three years, the team grew close. Eames discovered the art of forging and decided that it would be an area to specialise in that would mean he was always needed. Eames hated not being needed. Dom and Mal's second child, James was born. He was just as beautiful and sweet as Phillipa, and Arthur fell in love straight away. Eames was fantastic with the child and they often babysitted the two youngest Cobbs together when Mal and Dom went out. He and Eames were much more affectionate towards each other than Arthur thought strictly professional, but the one time that Mal and Dom had tried to push them into a relationship, Eames had flat out refused. At first, Arthur had felt dejected and used. He did not appreciate the way that Eames would flirt with him and then refuse anything more. But eventually he grew to accept it. That chatting up anything that moved was just Eames' way of relating to people.

And the three years passed in harmony. Sure, Eames and Arthur fought a lot. They had such opposing personalities that no matter what they said, they would end up in a fight. Or that was what casual observers would think. In reality, though, the two men just enjoyed the verbal sparring. And Mal and Dom would sigh and tell them that they sounded just like an old couple. And Eames would laugh it off and Arthur would always hurt a little inside when Eames just joked off their chemistry.

And then Mal committed suicide. And everything changed. Suddenly the calm little life they had built together was shattered and they were on the run. Arthur and Dom had left first, fleeing to France, and Eames had followed a week later. Dom had withdrawn further into himself, becoming obsessed with finding a way to return to his children. And Eames was leaving even quicker than usual. Now Arthur only counted five minutes. But he supposed everyone had their own way of coping, and Eames' seemed to be getting completely smashed every night. And Arthur just tried to hold everything together.

Arthur wasn't sure how, but over the next year they somehow became involved in slightly less-than-legal activities. He thought it was Eames' doing, but the Brit was often strangely absent when they worked for some of their shadier clientele. And now Eames was often gone before Arthur and Dom even came out of the dream world, his work station completely empty, as if he had never been there. Arthur was severally disappointed that their verbal sparring had all but disappeared since they had left the US, but it seemed that Eames wasn't handling Mal's death as well as he thought he was. He wished that Eames would let him help, that they could talk about everything. But Eames left no traces.

* * *

Therefore, Arthur was surprised when he came out of the dreamscape one day to find Eames gone, his desk packed, but his wallet lying on the floor of the warehouse. Dom had gone outside for some air, and Arthur only hesitated slightly before jumping up and striding purposely over to the wallet, with every intention of giving it back to Eames unopened. The last time he had touched the older mans personal belongings he had been left with a black eye, and he didn't want a repeat of that incident. It was 20 seconds later, then, that Arthur found himself riffling through Eames' cards. He counted.

Eames' wallet did not contain things that many would consider normal. After flicking past all the cash, Arthur found ten different ID cards, each with a different name. None of them were Eames'. There were also a number of generic cards that Arthur assumed were included to throw off any searchers. The only one that caught his eye was one that defiantly belonged to Eames, a frequent buyers card from something called 'The Who Shop'. Arthur smirked as he continued to search the pockets. He found three more ID cards and five more generic cards before he reached the final pocket. Having found nothing of interest in the rest of the wallet, Arthur considered briefly not even bothering checking the last, but he pulled out its contents after a very brief pause. And all he could do was stare down at the photo.

Two young, brown haired girls with Eames' grey eyes stared back at him. Now Arthur knew the reason Eames left so quickly after missions. The Brit had a family. Arthur was so shocked that he did not hear the footsteps coming towards the warehouse. But there was no ignoring the jovial call of "Darling?" that announced Eames' arrival, or the sharp intake of breath when the older man found Arthur holding his wallet open. He looked up to see Eames watching him, a flash of anger in his eyes, before he strode towards him, snatching up the wallet at the same time.

Eames was turning around to leave when he realised that Arthur had not said a word, and was staring down at something in his hand. Eames saw the photo and sighed, deeply. "I wanted to keep them a secret." He said, bluntly. Arthur noted that there was no anger in his voice, just resignation and maybe a hint of disappointment.

"Who are they?" Arthur asked, fighting hard to keep the nervousness out of his voice. If Eames had children…

The Brits expression changed as he said, fondly, "My daughters." And Arthur felt a wave of unanticipated jealousy rise in him. Daughters meant a wife, and a wife meant that Eames did not care for Arthur in the way that he cared for him. Arthur wasn't going to deny it anymore. He was in love with Eames. And it was just his luck to fall for a man who already had a family. It seemed that Arthur had missed his chance with the older man before he had even met him.

"How old are they?" he asked, conversationally.

"Teegan is seven, and Haylee is five." Eames replied, pointing to each girl in turn. "So they were born not that long before I met you." Arthur nodded and tried to continue conversation. He didn't want the awkwardness of the moment to grow.

"So that's why you're so good with children."

If Arthur didn't know Eames better, he could have sworn a blush of pride flickered over the Brits face before he replied in his usual offhanded tone "Oh, darling, I didn't think you had noticed."

Arthur snorted in an undignified fashion before looking down at the photo again. "They're beautiful girls." He murmured.

Eames beamed, and then asked something Arthur didn't expect. "Would you like to meet them?"

* * *

Eames' house was nothing like Arthur expected. Then again, Eames was full of surprises that night. The house was more like a cottage, with a small green door and large, beige curtained windows. Eames led them through the front door and into a hallway that was sparsely decorated, apart from the brightly coloured rug down its centre. Arthur expected the colours to clash terribly like the clothes the Brit always wore, but he supposed that since it was a rental house, he couldn't personalise it. Or maybe Eames' unknown wife had a better fashion sense then him. Arthur could hear shouts from the next room and he looked sideways at a grinning Eames. "Girls." He boomed, and his voice carried through the house, "I've bought a friend for you to meet. Stop fighting and get in here." And he turned to beam at Arthur, smile stretching wider than the pointman thought humanly possible. But he could not wipe the look of nervousness off his face.

Two young girls came running into the hallway. The youngest, "Haylee", Arthur thought, sprinted towards her father and flung herself into his arms. There were tears running down her face and her hair was half pulled out of it's ponytail, as she sobbed to Eames, "Teegan pulled my hair, daddy." The eldest daughter, Teegan, was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and staring guiltily at the floor as her little sister balled into their fathers shoulder. Neither had seemed to notice Arthurs presence. Eames put down Haylee and, holding her tiny hand in his much larger one, walked over to Teegan and squatted down in front of her. The girl refused to meet her father's eyes, and so Eames put a single finger under her chin and lifted it so that they were looking directly at each other.

"Apologise to you sister, Tig." He said in a stern voice. The little girl shook her head, chestnut locks flying everywhere as she said indignantly.

"Haylee started it."

Eames put on his best 'cross face' before saying, "I have a friend here, Teegan. Now please stop being embarrassing and apologise to 'Lee." Teegan looked up quickly and saw Arthur still standing in the doorway, trying to hold back the surprise from his face as he watched the exchange between father and daughters.

"I'm sorry, 'Lee." The girl said quietly.

"What was that, I didn't hear you?" Eames asked.

"I'm sorry, Haylee." Teegan said much louder this time.

"Good girl." Eames said, hugging her gently, and then, picking up Haylee, he turned around to introduce the girls to Arthur.

Arthur didn't think he had seen anything more amazing than the sight that met his eyes at that moment. There was Eames, loud, brash, obnoxious, con-man Eames, standing in a hallway, a young girl, his daughter, resting on one hip, his hand grasping that of the other girl standing beside him. Arthur forced a smile onto his face. He could not help but be disappointed that this domestic, lovable Eames belonged to someone else, when Arthur wanted him so badly. But Eames did not seem to notice the fakeness behind Arthur's actions, only beaming at him again. Eames had been doing a lot of beaming lately. He gestured for Arthur to come closer, and he did, stopping just in front of Eames and his daughters.

"Haylee, Teegan." Eames said. "This is a friend of mine. Arthur. He works with me." Haylee gave a shriek of delight and launched herself at Arthur, who only just managed keep his balance as the small child hugged him. Eames chuckled at his daughters less than dignified response, and then looked down at Teegan who was watching at Arthur calculatingly. Finally, the little girl smiled and reached out a hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Arthur." The pointman had to hold back a bark of amusement at the tiny girls grave demeanour as he squatted down to shake her hand. She was obviously trying to prove how much more grown up than her sister she was.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Teegan." Arthur replied in the most solum tone he could muster. "You have a lovely home."

Teegan grinned at him, a smile that so matched her fathers, and asked, in the same controlled voice. "Would you like a tour?" Arthur looked questioningly up at Eames, who nodded.

"That will give Haylee and I plenty of time to cook tea, won't it sweetheart?" He looked lovingly at the youngest girl who laughed happily and nodded enthusiastically.

"I would love a tour, Miss Teegan." Arthur said, and the little girl grabbed his hand tightly as she proceeded to show him around the house, Eames laughing as he went into the kitchen with Haylee.

* * *

Arthur was given an extremely thorough tour of Eames' rental house, where he was introduced one by one to each of Teegan's teddies before being granted quick glances of the other rooms. He wanted to have a good look around Eames' bedroom and try to uncover some information about the true forger, but Teegan was still clasping tightly onto his hand, and seemed to be in a huge rush to show him the kids room and then the second bathroom. And Arthur was too busy holding back a laugh to be at all frustrated with the tiny girl.

They returned to the kitchen and were met with the smell of a simple spaghetti bolognaise. Arthur sniffed appreciatively and Teegan ran off to hug her father around his leg. Eames laughed at Arthur reaction to his cooking and said, as sweetly as possible, "All done to impress you, darling." Arthur blushed when he realised that the Brit had noticed his reaction, and sat down at a chair at the large table. He looked down at his plate, knife and fork around the wrong way, and smiled at what was obviously Haylee's handiwork. Eames and his two girls sat down around him and they began to eat.

Arthur silently contemplated everything he had seen so far in the place that Eames called home. The first thing that he had noticed in entering the house was that everything was organised. That was not to say that the house was clean or sterile in any way, nor was it not cluttered, but everything seamed to have a place. Arthur had thought that Eames would be the type to just throw anything everywhere, but the more he though about it, the more that the causal organisation seemed to suit the Brit. Arthur could not honestly remember a time when Eames had done anything half-heartedly. While he did not show it in the same way the pointman did, Eames was always ready for anything and when on task he made sure that everything was completed perfectly.

Looking around the kitchen, Arthur could see, however, that Eames did have a slightly obsessive-compulsive side to his personality. Every single object in the room was lined up neatly, surfaces sparkling. There were tubs of cereal, flour and the like neatly stacked and labelled on the bench, and a shining oven, which must have set Eames back a few thousand euros. Above the stovetop there was a spice rack, each spice neatly arranged and organised alphabetically, and though the bench still had the pots and pans used in cooking dinner spread all over it, nothing looked out of place, as if the kitchen was just made to be cooked in. The room made Arthur smile. It showed him a whole other personality to a man whom he thought had an easy character to judge.

"It's very good, Eames." Arthur said after about 5 minutes of silence. Eames jumped slightly, as if he forgotten Arthur was there. The Brit often got lost in his children. They were so young and excitable and full of life, a constantly changing interest for Eames. They always had something new to talk about, something new to love, and their sporadic nature always kept the forger on his toes, just the way he liked it. Arthur continued, "It's a shame you never hung around to cook for us at work. Dom is terrible."

Eames smirked, saying "All I can cook is pasta. The girls are thoroughly sick of it, aren't you dears?" Two chestnut heads bobbed up and down quickly and Eames laughed jovially. "So how was school today, girls?" Haylee smiled and mentioned something about painting. Arthur didn't quite catch it, as her voice had barely passed the baby stage. Eames, however, seemed to understand her perfectly, and told her how great that was, but he turned to Arthur and shrugged. The pointman again had to hold down a laugh threatening to bubble to the surface.

Teegan then began to tell them all about the new boy at her school who had blond hair and was "really tall and nice." Arthur couldn't resist the chance to discover what kind of parent Eames was, and asked teasingly, "Got yourself a boyfriend then, Teegan?"

Eames looked horrified as Teegan nodded her head furiously, and he said "No, absolutely not. No boyfriends until you're 18, Tig." The little girl pouted and Arthur couldn't resist teasing the forger.

"Eames, I think you're being a little unfair. Beautiful girl, like this one, you can't expect her to be fighting off boys until she's 18, can you?" Eames glared at Arthur, saying that he most certainly could, and Arthur laughed loudly.

Teegan looked at Arthur strangely. "Why do you call daddy Eames?" She asked tentatively.

Arthur stopped laughing to look at the girl and said, his head tilting slightly to the side, "Well, that's his name, isn't it?"

Teegan laughed, a sweet, tinkering sound and said "Yes, but it's my name too, silly." She giggled and said in an attempt at a caring tone. "My friends call him Matt." Arthur looks up to see a deeply blushing Eames, and is surprised at two things. Firstly, that the seemingly blasé and unshakable forger could blush, and secondly that he would have such a common name as Matthew. He always thought Eames such a unique personality that he would have a name to match.

"Matt." Arthur said, trying the new name out. "Matt…no, it seems strange, I think I like Eames better." And the Brit laughed appreciatively.

* * *

An hour later Eames absolutely had to insist that the girls go to bed. They complained for a while, but Eames would hear none of it. He did, however, agree to accompany them to brush their teeth, telling Arthur to find something to amuse himself with while he was gone. He said they needed to have a chat.

As Eames trudged along the hallway after his laughing and skipping daughters, he thought back to the man he had left in the kitchen. Arthur had seemed to like his children well enough, but the pointman was well known to be able to completely hide his true emotions. Eames truly hoped that the girls hadn't annoyed Arthur too much. Lost in his thoughts, he had to stop quickly before he ran into the doorway of the bathroom. His girls were already brushing their teeth and Haylee had pulled her long brown locks out of their ponytail. He knelt down so he was at head high with his children and asked nervously "What do you girls think of Arthur?"

"I like him." Teegan replied almost instantly. "He's very funny and he liked all my teddies." Haylee nodded along beside her sister. Eames felt a huge sense of relief. He put a very high value on his girls opinions, and even though he was extremely fond of Arthur, if Teegan and Haylee didn't like him, then the almost five years they had spent working together and forming a friendship would have been pointless. Eames slapped his knees as he stood up and then, picking up both his girls, he carried them to their beds and gave them both a kiss on their forehead before tucking them in.

He turned off the light in Teegan's room and closed the door as quietly as he could. The little girl had fallen asleep as soon as her head had it the pillow. Eames leaned against the doorframe and breathed a sigh of relief and exhaustion before heading back to the kitchen to find Arthur. He was nervous about what he was going to say the pointman. He could only imagine the number of questions Arthur would have. He had, after all, just discovered that Eames had a whole other life. Arthur was not in the kitchen. And Eames feared the worst. The younger man had run. Had tried to put the biggest distance between Eames and himself as possible. The Brit sighed. He couldn't exactly blame him. After all, he had sprung a lot on him for one day. And he was about to go off to bed when he heard a sigh coming from the next room.

* * *

Eames walked into the lounge room to find Arthur holding a picture. "This is their mother, then?" he asked, trying his best to sound as offhanded as possible. He looked down at a photo of a shapely woman in a yellow dress, standing in a field. The wind was tugging at her long, light-brown hair and blowing the dress behind her. There were a large, bright pink flower in her locks and her head was turned so that she was beaming at the person taking the photo, her blue-grey eyes lighting up with the happy smile. She was not exactly beautiful, but Arthur could sense that there was something about her that just drew you to her. Maybe it was the way her smile lit up her face, or the faint laugh lines around her eyes.

Eames took the photo from Arthur and looked at it fondly, before placing it lovingly on the coffee table "Yeah, she was." He said.

Arthur felt an incredibly guilty feeling rising in his chest, and he chocked out "I'm so sorry. What happened to her?"

"She died." Eames replied. "Giving birth to Haylee. I wasn't even there. I wish I never took that job." Arthur could hear Eames' voice catch with held-back tears, and he reached out to clutch the other mans hand. He heard him breath deeply, and Arthur didn't expect him to continue. He was very surprised, then, when Eames decided to elaborate.

"We were a team, Jess and I," He said. "I did the grunt work, the forging and the extracting, and she was the brains, the architect, the chemist and the pointman. She was the best you've ever seen." Arthur grinned at Eames and put on a face of mock surprise. Eames laughed. "You're good, darling, I'll give you that. But she was the best."

"So she was British too?" Arthur asked.

"No, Australian." Eames replied. "We met in a dream, working for different teams. She saved my life, even though we were after the same information. Which she then promptly stole off me." He smiled at the memory before continuing. "I tracked her down after that, and everything just sought of went from there. A year after that, we were married, and within two years, Teegan was born." Arthur smiled at the idea of some small woman getting the better of the loud, out-there Eames. And then it clicked. This woman looked extremely familiar.

"She was short, wasn't she?" Eames nodded, and Arthur took it as a sign to continue. "I've seen her in your dreams. She's wearing that dress, and she always smiles rather sadly." Eames smiled to match the one of the brunette woman that Arthur so often saw in the back of Eames' dreams.  
"She's always there." He said, and Arthur felt bad again. He was bringing up memories of Eames' past that were obviously painful for him. But still, Arthur had to know.

"It's a very pretty dress." He said, trying to distract the other man from more morbid thoughts.

It worked, and Eames laughed, reaching up to tug on the collar of his flamboyant shirt, murmuring "She always liked bright colours." Arthur reached up to grab Eames' other hand, and they stood still for a minute, just watching each other.

* * *

Their peaceful moment, however, was interrupted by a small vice behind them. "Daddy?" Haylee asked.

The two men spun around quickly to see little Haylee standing in the doorway, thumb in her mouth and bright pink and white pyjamas much too large for her tiny frame. Eames was in front of her in an instant, sweeping his daughter up into his arms and hugging her to him. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, concern etched all over his face. Arthur could almost feel himself melt at this domesticated Eames, this man who obviously cared so much for his children.

"It's scary." Haylee said, burying her face in her fathers shoulder. Eames sighed and sat down on the large red couch, turning Haylee around so that her head was rested up against his chest and motioned for Athur to take a seat next to him. As soon as Arthur sat, the little girl swung herself around slightly so that her head was resting in the crook of Eames' arm, and her tiny feet were on Arthur's lap. Arthur ticked them softly and Haylee let out a giggle before looking up at her father with big, pleading eyes.

"Would you like a story, sweetie?" Eames asked and Haylee nodded enthusiastically. Eames chuckled at his daughters antics before he began to speak.

Eames did not tell the kind of stories usually expected to send young children to sleep. There were no princes and princesses, no enchanted castles and no fairytale in sight. He did not read from a book, but instead began to talk to his daughter making everything up as he went along. Eames' bedtime stories, it seamed, consisted of him describing a calming scene to Haylee, almost like something one would hear listening to a meditation tape, in an effort to scare away whatever was frightening. And as Arthur listened, Eames' words painting a colourful, lifelike picture in his mind, he felt himself drifting off as well.

"You are lying in a paddock." Eames started, his voice deepening to a low drone as he spoke. "There is a faint warm breeze blowing and the grass sways around you, tickling lightly at your bare feet. You are staring up at the sky. It is a bright blue and there are soft, white clouds floating through it. The sun is large, yellow and just the right temperature. You are all alone. Calm, safe and quiet." Eames stopped to take a breath and let them image sink in. He looked down at Haylee and saw that he eyes were still wide opened, begging him for more. He smiled softly and continued.

"You hear laughter off to the left and look over to see Teegan and I coming up over the hill."

"Is Arthur there, too?" Haylee asked brightly. Eames turned his head slightly and looked at the pointman questioningly. Arthur was sitting straight-backed and staring at the Brits face, and didn't seem to notice immediately that he was being addressed.

"Arthur?" Eames asked, concerned, and the younger mans eyes refocused as he leant forward and tweaked Haylee's nose.

"Of course I am, doll." He said, voice sounding strangely distant before leaning back into the couch. Eames watched him for a moment longer until Haylee wriggled in his arms, calling his attention back to the story he was supposed to be telling.

"So, where was I..?" Eames pretended to muse. "Ah, yes, so you hear laughter off to the left and look over to see Teegan, Arthur and I coming up over the hill. We lay down beside you and watch the clouds float in the sky, pointing out all the patterns we see. You sit up and pick a tiny pink flower…"

"Yellow flower." Haylee interupted, voice heavy with sleep.

"I think you'll find it is a pink flower, petal." "Eames said.

Haylee shook her head and murmured through a yawn "Yellow."

Eames turned to Arthur again, and asked "Are they pink or yellow flowers, darling?"

Arthur briefly considered the question, pulling a face that would suggest he was trying to remember and old memory, before saying "I think they were yellow." Eames mock-glared at the younger man, before continuing.

"Okay, you sit up and pick a yellow flower." Eames said, stressing the word yellow, "And begin to make a flower chain. Teegan sits up and then starts to help and you girls are standing up and running around in the soft grass, laughing and playing…" At this point, Eames' voice drifted off and Arthur could hear soft snores coming from the tiny girl sharing their laps. He looked up at the Brit questioningly and jerked his head towards the door, eyebrows furrowed. Eames shook his head and said quietly "No. Don't want to wake her. She's an extremely light sleeper." Then he grinned, saying, "Besides, darling, you look pretty tired, and the couch is quite comfortable."

Arthur leaned forward and tenderly brushed a lock of hair off Haylee's face, saying as he did so "It looks like her mothers."

Eames smiled at him and whispered "It's exactly her shade of brown." Silence fell between the two men as they watched each other, but it was broken by a huge yawn, curtesy of Arthur. Eames chuckled silently, saying, "Go to sleep, Arthur". Arthur could feel his eyelids drooping, he hadn't realised how tired he actually was, and out of convenience more than anything else, he leaned over so that his head was resting on Eames' shoulder, their shoulders pressing together.

Under his head, Arthur felt Eames momentarily tense and lifted his head slightly to look at the Brit. There was a strange look on the forgers face, and Arthur feared he had just crossed the line. They had flirted a lot, but Eames had resisted taking their relationship anywhere further. Arthur began to feel slightly uncomfortable under the Brit's gaze and began to fidget, considering just getting up and leaving, having completely forgotten about Haylee asleep on their laps. Arthur opened his mouth to apologise and felt a cool finger lifting his chin and then reaching up to cup his cheek. Eames' lips, tentative, soft and full, touched his not 5 seconds later. Arthur counted.

* * *

The next day Eames had had to leave to test out the dreamscape Dom was designing, and being the holidays, Teegan and Haylee didn't have school. Arthur had gallantly offered to watch the girls while Eames was gone and the Brit had kissed him gently as he left. Arthur spent the day fulfilling the girl's sporadic wishes and was dead on his feet after an impromptu game of chasey when Eames returned home. The forger had laughed at Arthur's lack of 'stamina' and the pointman had dared Eames to do the same. Eames just laughed and told the girls that he was going to cook tea and that Arthur could stay again if he wanted.

After dinner Eames put the girls to bed and returned to find Arthur lying of the couch flicking through the channels on his television. They sat together and Eames promised that he would hold Arthur's hand if the pointman let him watch Doctor Who. Arthur laughed and gave the Brit a kiss before grabbing his cold hand. It was dark and raining by the time the show had finished and Arthur casually mentioned that maybe he should be heading home. Eames turned to face him and said, in a deadly serious voice, "Or you could just stay here again." Arthur smiled gratefully and him and nodded. But Eames continued.

"Only, we don't have a spare bed."

"That's okay, I can sleep on the couch." Arthur said immediately. He really did not fancy walking all the way home in the rain, and if he had to sleep on a couch, then so be it.

Eames nodded, distractedly, and said, "Yeah, you could do that. Or you could…you know…sleep in my bed..?"

Arthur briefly entertained the notion of declining the offer, just to make Eames squirm. But he looked up to see that the Brit was actually nervous, and it was this surprise that made him blurt out, a little to eagerly he thought, a breathless "Okay." Eames grinned and led him by the hand to his bedroom.

* * *

They didn't go into the dreamscape again for two months. Dom was in negotiations with a new client, so Eames and Arthur were left to their own devices. In that time, Arthur got to know the entire Eames family a lot better. He learned that Eames was a much more complex person that he originally thought, but the incredibly childish side he portrayed at work was not an act. Eames was just an easily excitable person and often viewed things with an almost child-like enthusiasm. He also discovered that Eames could cook much more than pasta. In fact, he was an incredible cook, and when Arthur pressured him about it once, Eames may have mentioned that home economics was the only class he payed attention to in his short time at high school. Well, that and drama, which was what made him such an excellent forger (he was also surprised to note that Eames' ability to read people was completely natural – he never had any formal training). Arthur commented dryly that Eames had no modesty, and the Brit said that who was he to deny the world his brilliance. Arthur kissed him for that one, before rearranging Eames' spices. He didn't dare enter the kitchen for a week after hearing the language the forger used after discovering that the chives were not next to the chilli, which was where they ought to be, and what kind of idiot (and other, much stronger words) puts parsley next to garlic anyway?

Arthur learned that Eames sung loudly in the shower, and doubly as loudly out of it. He discovered that the shouldn't sing along with the Brit because neither of them were any good, and together their voices clashed terribly. He found that Eames was a wiz at card games, and when he was alone he often played solitaire for hours on end. He observed that the forger liked to try and fix everything that went wrong in the house, even though more often than not he further broke whatever it was he was trying to fix. He learned that Eames had ticklish feet, just like his daughters, and he loved it when Arthur ran his long, pianist fingers along his tattoos. And Eames refused to be the little spoon.

Teegan and Haylee, he discovered, and inherited their fathers fashion sense, and often work clothes that made Arthur groan at how mismatched they were. They also took after Eames in music and TV tastes, which Arthur thought a true shame. They had, however, inherited the book-knowledge that the Brit had accredited to their mother. They were bright, adventurous and out-going girls with constant smiles, and Arthur's rare gins were showing themselves much more often. Eames also loved Arthur's smiles, and would softly touch the dimples that appeared.

And over the two months Arthur only tried to leave once. A week had past and the pointman was beginning to feel he was overstaying his welcome. Eames hadn't said as much, but Arthur figured he was too polite. Surely he didn't want Arthur to move into his house. They weren't even really dating. And so in the middle of the day, Arthur had called out to Eames that he was going home. Eames didn't anything, and Arthur felt hurt, so he left swiftly. He was down the path and turning to face the street when he heard a soft voice behind call out his name. He spun and saw Teegan standing in the little green doorway, hair sticking up slightly from where she had slept on it. "Arthur." She said. "Daddy says he wants you to help me bake a cake." Arthur was confused for a minute, surely Eames would not let him into the kitchen where he could mess up the order of things or dirty his precious oven or something, but he followed Teegan into the house anyway. He was met by Eames in the kitchen doorway who gave him a huge bear-hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. There was no cake.

After that day, the only time Arthur left Eames' house was to go shopping or gather things from his apartment.

* * *

And then two months had passed, and Dom and found them another job. The girls were back at school after a two weeks break, and Arthur and Eames re-entered the world of dreamscapes. They always went into Arthur or Dom's dreams to test the layouts, and so the pointman and extractor were surprised when Eames said that he wanted to give his dreamscape some exercise. Arthur loved Eames' dream straight away. It was a park, and children and parents were playing joyfully in the playground. Dom went off to explore the complexity of the dream, and Arthur was left alone with Eames. The pointman turned to the forger and asked "Well, now what are we supposed to do?" Eames looked at Arthur with the same fondness he showed the picture of his late wife before kissing him passionately.

"I'm off to for a walk, darling." He said causally. "You can do whatever you want. But please don't follow me. I need to think." Arthur nodded and then looked down at the ground. Feeling a long calloused finger under his chin, Arthur looked up to see Eames' grey eyes filled with such a strong emotion that he felt the need to look away. But he held the Brits gaze.

"I love you." Eames said, and kissed him again, lightly on the lips and then the tip of his nose. Arthur smiled softly, laughed, and then said, in an almost nervous voice.

"I love you too." Arthur could almost feel the older man deflate as he breathed a sigh of relief and then sighed as Eames' warm presence moved away. The forger waved over his shoulder as walked towards the small town that had appeared behind the park. Arthur smiled, chuckled, and then flopped down on a park bench. As he watched the children playing in the park, Arthur imagined the life that he could have with Eames. He grinned as he lost himself in his own little world, and almost didn't notice to projection that was approaching him from the mass of parents and children. But it certainly broke him out of his happy musings.

Arthur could only stand and stare as a short woman in a yellow sundress approached him from the crowd. Stopping in front of him, she reached out with small, lightly tanned hands to clasp his pale ones. Up close, Arthur could see the beauty of Jessica Eames. Her brown hair, lighter than in the photo, fell just below her chest in gentle waves, and her face was blemish free, apart from a single beauty spot just above the curve of her jaw. Her eyes, a deep blue-grey, were framed with long, dark lashes that rested delicately on her cheeks as she blinked, and her lips were full and deeply red.

Arthur glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at her face. She was still wearing that same smile. She raised her eyes to look straight into Arthur's and said, in a throaty Australian accent "Take good care of Matt."

Arthur returned her gaze steadily, and whispered "I will, Jess." The woman grinned hugely, a joyful, genuine smile that lit up her whole face and, standing on her toes, flung her arms around Arthur's neck. Arthur could barely hear her words of thanks or feel her lips ghost against his cheek, but when he opened the eyes he hadn't realised were closed, Jessica Eames was again fading into the background, beaming all the while.


End file.
